


Why Sawyer Said What Sawyer Said

by Xedra



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xedra/pseuds/Xedra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fevered dream prompts Sawyer to admit his feelings for Kate. Set during the episode What Kate Did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Sawyer Said What Sawyer Said

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything in here that you recognize from LOST isn't mine. Just having fun.
> 
> A/N: I figured Sawyer didn't know he was speaking to Jack, and wondered what might've prompted him to say those three little words about Kate. This is what I came up with. Oh, and I suck at titles, sorry.

The infection from the bullet wound gave Sawyer intense dreams.

This one had him stumbling through a curiously darkened jungle, a part of the jungle he didn't recognize. It was day, but the air was dark and close all around him, pressing on him, making it hard to breathe.

He was being watched.

He didn't know if it was Them or some other strange force on this "island of mystery" that followed his every move. He didn't care.

He had to find his way back. He HAD to.

The need was so strong it made his heart pound and his stomach flutter. It irritated the hell out of him to feel that way, but it wouldn't go away. Every time he stopped to rest it got stronger, pushing him, driving him through the dim, damp jungle.

Sawyer walked for hours... or was it days?... and came no closer to camp. Every tree looked the same, every bush. He was walking in circles, then running in circles, cursing every bit of green he trudged through, but he kept going.

He had to get back. Back to familiar surroundings, familiar faces.

Faces... that face...

Sawyer stopped, turned around. The same trees, vines and bushes, the same bit of sky peeking through the canopy. The air was hot and heavy. He was covered in sweat, shaking with exertion. His body ached, his wounded arm was on fire, limp at his side.

The eyes followed him from the shadows. He was annoyed at first; now he was angry. What the hell did they - it - whatever was watching him - want? Was this some kind of sick game? See how long he'd go in the same circle, like a damn mouse on a wheel?

Fury churned in him and he was itching for a fight, no matter how exhausted he was. He'd take on whatever it was in the shadows with his bare hands if it would get him out of this circle faster. He didn't have time for this crap! He HAD to get back!

He needed something... something back there. He had to get to it! Not his stash. There wasn't anything there he needed desperately, or he would've brought it with him on the raft. No, it was wasn't something he left behind... not some _thing_... some _one_...

Then the whispers came. They poured out of the shadows from every direction. A chill danced up his spine and he shivered. Sawyer spun around, trying to pin down the voices that tumbled over each other, trying to catch any of the words flying around him. The separate voices suddenly melded together.

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

He frowned. Why? What kind of question was that? Why, WHAT? Why was the sky blue, the grass green? Why was he there, stuck on a weird island filled with polar bears, ground shaking monsters, maniac pigs and a loony French woman? The hell if he knew! Why was he running through the same bit of jungle, getting nowhere? They should be telling him WHY!

Why didn't they let him go? Why couldn't he get back? He had to get back--

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

He glared at the trees around him. Because he HAD to, that's why!

Weariness overtook him. He bent over double, propping his good arm against his knee, feeling weak and shaky. It was too hot... he couldn't breathe! But he couldn't stop, either. He had to get back... back to camp... back to her.

That terrible need pushed at him again, but one step forward was too much and he toppled to the ground, landing hard on his good arm. He sucked in a sharp hissing breath as the pain from his wound radiated though his body.

He cursed a blue streak and pounded the grass with his fist, then cursed again at the resulting shard of pain it caused. Great, just great! How the hell would he get back to her if he couldn't move?

Back to that smile, those freckles... Kate...

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

Because he needed to, damn it!

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

Sawyer gave a tired sigh, rubbed his forehead with one hand, then dragged it down over his eyes.

Because he needed her.

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

He stiffened and set his jaw, trying to ignore the voices, but the answer was there, deep inside him. The answer scared him. Nothing pissed him off more than being scared, but he just didn't have the energy to be angry now. Why didn't they just leave him the hell alone and let him go?

The whispers asked again and again, growing louder, drowning out all other sounds, echoing in his head.

He couldn't fight it. He knew, somehow, that if he didn't answer, he'd never make it back. He'd just keep circling the same bit of jungle over and over. He'd never see her again...

_Why? Why, Sawyer? Why?_

The words welled up inside of him and spilled out in a rough whisper.

"I love her."

FIN


End file.
